It Was Supposed to Get Better

            They said it would go away. They said that, with time, the memory would grow fainter, the nightmares would come way less frequently, and the flashbacks would cease. THEY lied. It’s been 6 months, I still get nightmares, the memory still jumps into my head several times a day, and the flashbacks occur multiple times a day and seem to be getting worse.

Also, talking with a person who was raped over 11 years ago, it doesn’t go away. The nightmares creep back into your nights so your relief from the memories you get bombarded with is no longer able to help you. The sensitivity to dirty jokes, certain movie scenes, and general situational depression turned chronic does not stop. None of these things go away.

A family member of mine was gang raped as a young child. After 4.5 decades, she still has nightmares and problems with it.

This nonsense will never go away.

Why do victims get false hope instilled by the professionals in charge of helping them through it and after it? Now, I don’t think it is on purpose, but it sucks having the hope that we will survive and potentially “get better” when in all reality, we will deal with this for the rest of our lives.

Compassion Fatigue

I absolutely love working in the hospital. It is so great getting to work on so many floors with so many different nurses, CNA's, and other staff members. It makes clinicals so amazing because I already know everyone and I have gotten quite a few job offers of sorts.

After the incident with EXboyfriend, I had been going down the sleep slope of compassion fatigue. I feel like I care for everyone else, and I do so with all that I have in my heart, but nobody cares for me. Everyone demands so much of me but nobody is willing to shoulder any of my burden, they won't even listen about my burden. So, I am getting increasingly more isolated (even from "close" friends and family) and yet everyone is demanding more and more from me.

I get it, everyone has their own problems and everyone needs help. I totally understand. However, why does it seem okay for everyone to just expect everything from me? Often without even asking if I'm willing to do things, they just assume that I will be available because apparently I have no life and no needs of my own.

• I don't have weekend plans so I can drive my 5 different friends who are on 5 completely different flights to the airport that is 2 and a half hours away, on a Friday night and Saturday morning, no less. 
• Sure, I will pay attention in class while you screw around on Pinterest in the back and then give you a play-by-play of exactly what happened in class and every important piece in information you need to know. 
• Sure, I will puppy sit all the puppies and not have any chance at a relaxing weekend or any chance at sleeping in. 
• Sure, I will be forced to make all the decisions for my school group and friend group and then be criticized at every turn because what I finally chose doesn't work for anyone but nobody else has a fucking idea of what they want to do. 

Because I have no life. I'm not allowed to have personal time where I don't have to be fake for anyone so that everyone can live in the illusion that I am okay because they can't handle me not being okay.

I'm not allowed to be selfish for one second. I have to take care of patients who need complete, total care and deal with nurses and CNA's who sometimes don't step foot in the room because the patient needs a sitter so I should be able to completely handle the patient all night long, alone.

I have to keep my shit together, not have any kind of support from anyone, be able to support everyone around me, and slap on a smile so that nobody knows what's going on in my dungeon of a mind.


So, I fight a battle nobody knows about. I have scars nobody has seen and nobody can ever understand. I am completely alone in this world carrying burdens that nobody will help me with. I carry pain with me that nobody can comprehend and I fight for every breath I take. I cry when I'm alone because for the first time in about 6 months, I am finally able to and sometimes I just need to feel something instead of the rage growing inside of me and the numbness from being completely unable to handle any of the immense troubles that weigh down every step I try to take. I am being crushed. I am being consumed absolutely alive by flames while simultaneously drowning and I get no relief anywhere or from anyone.


Oh, so this all led me to quit my job. I have to finish out another two months, or so, but I sent in my resignation letter to my boss last night during my shift. I don't know if I'll be able to be a nurse because I can't even take care of my own basic needs like sleeping or eating properly. How am I supposed to care for anyone else? My heart feels so empty anymore, I don't know if I have the capacity to care for anyone else anymore.

That was my news. Saying that I quit my job was the original purpose of this post but I went a little crazy... I'm sorry guys.

Sleep Disturbances

Let's start off by discussing how precious sleep it so me. First of all, I sleep an absolutely ridiculous amount. This is because of depression, I work nights, and it is my drug of choice when life is getting too hard and I need to escape. Lately, life is very difficult, I worked last night, and depression is probably at an all time high and the longest duration I think I've ever had it in my life. Therefore, I require a lot of sleep.

Oh, an I'm in nursing school. If you are not in nursing school but plan to be, just know that some of your vacations will be spent sleeping because you get NONE during school, especially if you work and go to school and ever want to see any other human being while you are in the program. Get used to living with coffee running as the fluids in your vasculature, blood is now overrated.

Did I mention I worked last night? Before work, I typically sleep from noon until about 5:30 so that I can get sleep before work so I will not be dozing off during my shift. Seeing as I sit in a dark room with a patient I am trying to get to sleep, but I need to not sleep, this nap is crutial to me keeping my job! Yesterday I got to sleep around 2, slept for about an hour before getting woken up. Oh the rage. Words do injustice to the anger coursing through my body after being woken up. I get grumpy anyway when I'm woken up. HOwever, when I am woken up after it was incredibly difficult to fall asleep, and it took another 45 minutes to get me back to sleep in the middle of the day, I was furious. I was woken up so that the dog could come and jump on my bed because roommate does not like her being alone when she leaves. The dog is fine alone, we leave her completely alone for hours and hours during the day when we have stuff to do, she will be fine for a couple of hours while I sleep so that I can work.

Today I had to go run errands before coming home after my shift. I waited at both of the stores I needed to go to because I got to both of them before opening time because I got off at a terrible hour in the morning and nobody should be up that early. I tried for the rest of the day to lay down and take a nap after that, but I just couldn't do it. I finally got to sleep around 4 then the damned dog came in 30 minutes later whining to go out. Exasperation consumed every atom that makes up my being and I woke up to take the dog out. After 15 minutes of her sniffing around, she still hadn't gone to the bathroom at all! Oh my goodness! I was so beyond pissed. I brought her back in and told her to go to her kennel. So pissed!!! It took another 30 minutes to go back to bed (keep in mind I've been up for about 24 hours with no sleep and that makes me incredibly grumpy anyway) but having sleeping problems makes it worse. I get to sleep, stay asleep for about an hour and a half and wake up to roommate asking me to wake up to come pick up a bug she killed in her room. Yeah. I absolutely adore this girl, but the lack of sleep I'm getting is making my depression get exponentially worse by the hour and so my life is getting darker and gloomier by the moment. At this point, I am about to lose my shit because I was woken up from my very short nap to pick up a FUCKING BUG!

Please excuse the bad words, I need a little chesed (grace) because there is a lot of anger in my heart and the lack of sleep is contributing to the addition of more and more grumpiness as each day passes.

These two incidences, plus getting woken up because the dog starts barking and playing around when she gets home and the volume in the apartment raising to extremely high levels, typically once I am down for a much needed nap. In addition, being woken up at 0600 on my fucking days off so the dog can eat a treat on my bed and snuggle for a solid 3 seconds before roommate leaves, I am so beyond past my level of being ticked off. I'm also not supposed to sleep as much as required by my depression because seeing me only come out of my room to pee and eat occasionally, because I am sleeping the rest of the time, makes her worried and I made her cry because of that.

I need sleep! That's all I want. I want to sleep in a bed where the dog doesn't keep peeing in it. I want to sleep in on my days off when the apartment will be silent and I can maybe catch up on sleep without roommate worrying about me because she won't be there during the day. I want to sleep before work and know that I can get a decent nap in before work without getting woken up. I want to be able to sleep after my 12 hour long night shift because I am stressed and exhausted, without getting woken up by barking by an excited dog, barking and whining because the dog is bored and wants to go outside to sniff around, and other things that wake me up unnecessarily because I haven't slept in a very long time. ALL I WANT IS SLEEP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm so at my whits end with life, it's just not even funny.

Add all of these things to the recurring nightmares and strange, vivid dreams I keep having about exboyfriend, Country Boy, and fiance and my life is getting very little sleep, let alone restful sleep.

Life Insurance

I got to spend some time with boyfriend/fiance this weekend. He went out on Halloween and called me for a ride because he had had a few too many drinks. That's cool, I offered the ride to him because there are a ridiculous amount of cops out to catch people having a little "too much fun" and then choosing to drive. I get it, they're trying to keep the roads safe. Unfortunately, most of the cops I saw had pulled people over for speeding while I saw several drunk drivers with no cops around. Seriously, priorities people! Whatever, it's not my job and I can't tell other people how to do their jobs because I hate people telling me how to do mine.

Anyway, fiance and I were talking and he told me he put me on his life insurance. He told me if he dies, he wants me to buy a nice house, a nice truck, and he wants me to go travel the world with the money. I asked when he put me on his policy and he told me it was a couple weeks ago. A couple weeks ago we were broken up... So I asked if I was put on before or after the break-up, he told me he put me on it during the time we weren't together. Hmmm, that's kind of interesting. He says he was hoping we would get back together so he put me on it anyway. It's sweet, but it's almost like he doesn't believe I was serious. I know that I can walk away and be absolutely fine. I need him to realize that because maybe he will realize that I'm not a puppet and I do have my own needs as a human being.

He's getting better at listening to me, sometimes. Other times we get in fights, but when he gets upset with me, I am actually able to start telling him exactly what is on my mind because I am thinking of replies to him before I see him.

He keeps asking when the wedding is because we had originally planned on getting married in June of 2016. He's not super happy that we will be waiting another year (2017) or two but I need the time to see if we will work out. I can see him trying to fix his life, but I honestly know that it's not going to change unless he finds the L-rd but he is angry with G-d for taking his wife away. I get it. I'm angry that my purity was allowed to be stolen when G-d could have done something, anything, to be able to save me from that. However, I have to trust that there was a reason that it was allowed and I have to have hope that someday, the L-rd will restore my purity and make me whole. I have hope that He will forgive me and allow me to be able to spend eternity with Him. Honestly, the only thing keeping me going right now is a hope that someday, I won't have to remember any of this and that I will make it to eternity and not have to be here anymore. It's a small thing to grasp onto, but it's all I have right now.

I watched The Fault In Our Stars. Poor choice to watch when depressed and already sad (I watched it during my break-up with fiance). Oh my goodness, I cried for the rest of the day. It brought back to mind my funeral plans and what I want to be said about me when I go. All I want is to be remembered for forgiving when everyone around me thinks its crazy. I want to be remembered as being dependable, sweet, kind, patient, and good with old people and children. I want to be remembered as being a friend to those who don't have friends, even when it might be painful for me because at least then they have someone. It would be nice to be remembered, but I have no idea how/if I will be remembered. That's sometimes a little scary, but it is what it is. The reason I thought about all of this is because of the eulogy scene where the guy that is sick decides that he wants to hear the eulogies that he asked his friends to prepare. I want to hear what people would say in my eulogies, but I don't really want eulogies at my funeral and not many people have the chance to be able to attend their funeral before they die.

So, that is where I'm at.

Because, why not?

New roommate is a piano instructor. I've been wanting to learn piano for awhile now so I asked her to teach me after supper tonight. She agreed and so I got my first lesson! Well, I was in piano when I was really little, like 4 or 5 but I quit because I didn't like it and would get frustrated when I had to practice.

Anyway, she's says I'm really good. Granted, she teaches little children... and she's always encouraging and sweet. I don't know how anyone can be so happy all the time but she is. It's probably good for my depression to learn how to be more positive all the time, I don't know.

We're doing better. She was crying last night when I came home, but it turns out that it wasn't my fault this time! Yay!

Anyway, I may or may not have spent $75 on Amazon getting a bunch of country piano books... but that's besides the point.

My hope is that I can play Burning House by Cam or Over You by Miranda Lambert. I love those songs and I want to sing but let's be real, it is probably more likely that I can be decent at playing piano and I may never be able to sing well. Anyway, I'll only sing for me and I think I sound okay sometimes so we'll just roll with that.

So, I am 21 and a half and learning to play piano because why not?

Oh, I got a flu shot today. I'll be documenting my lovely psych problems that are sure to follow here. It happens every year. I thought maybe it was just a one time reaction, but it happened last year too. I usually end up with terrible depression episode for a few days after the stupid shot. Also, my arm frickin' hurts! I can't lift it very high because it's sore from that silly shot. I can't wait until I graduate and can get the religious exemption. Seriously, this is nonsense. Flu shots are last year's strain, not what is being passed around this year. How many times does it actually help save lives? I don't know but the research I've come across is not promising enough to make me change my thoughts on getting this damned thing. Whatever, it's my last year at school and I will gladly suffer through wearing those damned masks just to avoid getting the shot.

Have you noticed the naughty words I keep using? Ya, there's a lot of anger in my heart. It'll go away, I hope. In the mean time, cursing numbs the pain a little bit and allows me to express a little bit of the grumpiness. So, please forgive me for the poor word choice, I'm working through some stuff. You guys also get to hear about that nonsense so I figure you know about that already.

Well, goodnight guys, I'm gonna go try to sleep.

Blessings!

Irony About ER Screenings

I don't know about you, but at the hospitals I do clinicals at (there are three), the ER and most floors have a screening for domestic violence, self-harm, suicide ideation, and depression. The questions are simple:

1. Do you feel safe at home?
2. Do you feel safe in your relationship?
3. Are you depressed or feel down?
4. Do you harm yourself?
5. Do you ever wish that you would die or try to kill yourself?

Little questions like that are considered a screening. Now, they are kinda trick questions. By this, I mean that if you answer any of them wrong, then the proper authorities have to be informed and then your life is about to get a whole lot more stressful. If you say that you harm yourself or have thought about/tried to kill yourself, you now get to be under a 72 hour M1 hold in the hospital with the company of a sitter who watches your every move, every moment of the day (even when you use the bathroom). You then also have that in your chart and on your record. If you say you do not feel safe at home or in your relationship, then you might have the police come in and chat with you or child protective services come do a whole long investigation. Yikes.

I have been thinking a lot about this since having been in the ER as a patient and as a student nurse. We ask these questions, thinking they will be a help in some shape or form, but are they really? How easy is it to answer "no" to these questions when your heart is screaming "yes" (or vice versa, depending on the question) just because you know what will happen or you are scared to admit any of these things to yourself? When I went in, I answered appropriately to all questions to avoid the outcomes that would result upon answering any of them "incorrectly". After the assault, I was majorly depressed, I wished that G-d would allow me to die, and the temptation to begin self-harm again was at an all-time high. However, I knew that saying any of these things in the hospital would result in me actually being admitted to the hospital for a few days so that they can see if you're emotionally and mentally able to be released out into the world. So, what good do these questions really do? I have seen so many nurses go into a room and not ask these questions to the patients because the nurse felt it was unnecessary to do so.

In my last med/surg clinical group, my instructor brought up a good point about getting help for depression and suicide: there aren't really great systems to get help. If you go somewhere and say you're depressed and struggling to not hurt/kill yourself, people will lock you away, then you learn to not seek help for your emotional struggles which will likely lead to suicide. If you go somewhere to talk to a counselor, professor, or whomever else you choose to confide your struggles to, you can explain your symptoms of depression, but leave out that you are struggling to stay alive, but then you cannot receive the help you truly need because you have one of the deepest, darkest secrets that will eat a hole right through you until you either end up dying, or you somehow find hope to survive long enough to get out of the depression.

For me, the depression lasts years. I don't go anywhere for help because counseling didn't work in the past, I know what happens if you say the wrong thing and I'm scared of going through that, friends don't know how to support me when I can't figure out how to be happy, and nobody understands, they think I'm being dramatic and a whiner. So, I live with the knowledge of the things I've done, I wear the scars, and I battle with myself daily. When friends ask what is wrong, they usually persist in the beginning of the friendship to figure out what is happening in my mind, once they find out, they stop asking and I stop telling. This usually causes big rifts and eventually we move on from each other. Yet, I am still saddled with the constant war, fatigue, struggles to remain alive, sleeping for several days straight to escape without dying, distracting myself when I feel so numb that I know hurting myself would at least offer a chance at coming back to reality and feeling something, and I deal with it all by myself because people don't stick around once they get a glimpse of the darkness they tried so hard to uncover.

That's probably one of the hardest things to deal with: losing friends because they don't feel close if you don't tell them every single thing that runs through your brain, but once they figure out what you deal with then they no longer want anything to do with you. I end up feeling used, hurt, sad, angry, more depressed, and I deal with a lot of guilt because they tell me how hard it is to watch me and listen to me go through my depression cycles. I've watched a lot of people cry at my expense because of that and I am about to lose another roommate because of that.

In my defense, I try to keep it a secret and keep it at bay. Pretending to be happy and carefree is not all that hard, but my face doesn't keep secrets at all and so they start digging. It happens every time I get a friend and we start to get close. Going through this just makes me want to stay superficial with everyone I meet because they like me when it's just a "hey, how are you?" kind of friendship. Unfortunately, girls don't really stand around and bullshit like guys do, they want to explore feelings, family life, and other happenings that involve deeper levels of intimacy. And so, the cycle continues and it pushes me deeper and deeper into my pit. I keep more secrets from everybody, and I refuse to trust anyone because everybody lies.

So, that is where I am and what I've been thinking about for several months now. Something needs to be done in this country to fix the "suicide prevention" system that is currently in place because there are an awful lot of suicides and even more suicidal people out there and nobody seems to be getting much help where they feel safe to share what's truly going on in their minds. I want to change things, but I don't even know where to begin. Maybe it could prevent deaths like Country Boy's, maybe he could have had a better chance.

No Replies Necessary

Today I am having a hard day. Today, I need to vent in a place where I will not see the judgement on everyone's face, and where I will not hear the backlash and get lectured on it later. So, please no replies to today's post. I love you all, I respect your wish to help me and not see me hurt, but sometimes it's okay to just let someone deal with stuff alone. Today, this post, these are one of those times.

I broke up with Fiance Wednesday. I wasn't planning it and I wasn't expecting it but I did. We had planned to hang out. We hung out for awhile, and then he needed to go. Towards the end, while he was driving me back to my car, he was lecturing me about stupid stuff. I was getting irritated and I have been struggling with our relationship for several months now. He ended up asking me (for the millionth time) if I was done fighting.

That is usually his way of letting me know he sees that I am frustrated and that I'm having a hard time attempting to stay in the relationship. That day I was done. He asked if I was done fighting and I said yes. He asked if that meant that we were over, I said yes.

We got to my car and spent the next half hour talking, holding hands, hugging, and he kissed me a few times. I cried, like a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Then I got in my car, he drove away and I sat there for awhile getting to a place where I could be able to see while driving.

I spent the rest of the day crying and being with friends. I only told my brother, Beauty, and my new Roommate. They seem supportive of me but nobody knows what to say to me. I spent the next day sleeping and crying. We continued to talk a little bit and I got a lot of things off my chest because he kept asking questions so I answered them honestly. He went out drinking both nights and texted me the whole time he was out. Friday he ended up calling me and we talked for awhile. He asked more questions and I answered truthfully still. He went out drinking again then came to my apartment drunk. We talked for two or three hours out in his truck. He begged me to take him back. I told him to ask me when he was sober.

He ended up asking me again the next morning. I told him I don't know. We keep talking, he keeps asking "what's the plan?". I keep responding with I don't know. As of right now, we are trying to work things out, but my heart's not in it, he knows that because I've flat out told him so.

New Roommate has been watching me through all of this. A couple weeks ago we were drinking at home and she started asking questions. Those questions ended up revealing that the relationship I have with him is not the healthiest and she is now scared of him. I get it. I would be reacting the same way if I was watching her go through this, but I feel like I am in control. I see what is going on behind the scenes, that she doesn't see, and I know that he and I have had a really rough ride but I know that I can walk away when I need to. I've done it already, I can do it again.

He's upset that the relationship is not the same that it was before we broke up. I told him that I need time to figure stuff out and trust him again. He didn't do anything like cheat on me, I just found some stuff out, that he admitted to, but didn't want to tell me. I feel slighted and stupid. Shit happens.

In church, we're talking about how G-d takes us through wildernesses and then allows things to happen to us to see how we'll react and to see if we will still trust Him. I don't necessarily think this relationship is a wilderness right now, I know that my current situation is largely caused by my poor choices. However, I am reminded of Job and how he was righteous and G-d saw that he was doing well. G-d then allowed him to be tested to ensure that his heart was pure and true. Well, if I am in a wilderness, I do believe I'm probably failing the tests. I'm probably failing all of the tests. My heart is angry, I'm impatient, I don't want to talk to anyone, I was to isolate myself, and I am picking up some habits that are slightly frowned upon. I'm tired guys. Right now, my life is really hard and I feel like I've messed it up beyond repair. I know that G-d can work miracles and fix everything, I'm just not seeing it right now. That's okay, He does everything in His own timing and I await the day when I get to see how He works a miracle through this incredible mess I've made. Unfortunately, I'm not able to hold my breath that long because I've been waiting months and I'm not seeing it. In fact, it's gotten worse over the past couple of months. So, I wait expectantly hoping for a miracle, but riding out the storm I've found myself in.

I'm angry, I feel completely used up, graceless, unforgiving, frustrated, exhausted, irritated, and I wish that I didn't have to live this life. The only thing keeping me going is knowing that I love the L-rd and I hope with all of my heart that this will be over and the L-rd has some kind of purpose for my life. I don't know what the purpose is, I can't even begin to imagine that anything can be made from this disaster. Anything is possible with G-d, He's the only way anything'll work.